


Tell Me About Despair, Yours, And I Will Tell You Mine

by athirstygoil



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Child Murder, Gen, Hallucinations, Self-Harm, Suicidal Thoughts, Survivor Guilt, Toriel had a tough decision to make and she stuck to her guns all the same, even if that meant destroying herself in the process
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-28
Updated: 2019-01-28
Packaged: 2019-10-18 00:56:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17571239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/athirstygoil/pseuds/athirstygoil
Summary: Toriel doesn’t have time for regrets. She’s already come so far…





	Tell Me About Despair, Yours, And I Will Tell You Mine

**Author's Note:**

> This is my interpretation of Swap!Toriel and a peek into her motivations in my WIP AU, Crowned.

She steps away from the rubble as the effigy of her husband crumbles. No more gratuitous reminders, she promises herself, as she undertakes the long walk home. The only remnant of his presence she allows is the trident he defiantly speared into the tiles of their once-pristine throne room. Evidence of his insolence, of his betrayal. To her _and_ her rule.

 

She decides from then on she will not be defied. That the sins she commits are for the greater good of all monsters. The best outcome for her people. And each confrontation only affirms it. Each soul she collects only strengthens her guilt and resolve.

She will make certain she will be remembered after she dusts. She would, she vows, show no mercy to those against it. Against _her._

 

Large feet pace around the throne room. Dancing over petals and debris from her previous confrontation with her ex-husband.

Before he chose banishment, before he chose to abandon her, a thirst for Human blood ignited in Toriel after the death of their children. She does not remember much after her grand speech to the masses, only a promise made must be fulfilled at any cost.

Many stood by her. Others defied her. But what hope would come from a Queen if she could not keep her word?

 

She replays the day Asgore incited the fight between them in her head. She loves him. She loved him.

He showed his true weakness when he opposed her.

He proved how feeble-minded he was, how foolish--!

 

He refused to understand. She refuses repairs. Only memories and his trident remain of the King. A trophy, some say. Or a memorial, to replace the worn statue in Waterfall.

She leaves it to stand tine-side out, jutting upward like Poseidon commands from the sea. So she may contemplate on his opinion; should she consider spilling more dust than required.

Sometimes she pricks the tip of her paw, to remember pain. To ground her wavering self when her responsibilities, the role she needs to play, and her rule tire her.

 

Living with her too-loud thoughts for company leaves her haunted by even the tranquility of Waterfall. They shout at her, plead, like children. Like parents who linger too long yet did not understand who landed the first blow. Punishing both children for lack of a true confession. Alone, they threaten to swallow her whole. And the empty spaces she can’t fill with her presence only deepen the abyss caving into her soul.

 

All those slaughtered monsters and their children who wished for a better future. All those souls she collected, while their bodies lay dead.

Six dead, yet _so much dust_ ... _too much dust_ coating their frail forms.

Humans don’t dust like monsters do. If not properly buried, they decay. Toriel learns of this the hard way. One of many reasons the coffins in the basement remain shut.

She hears them sometimes, crying, screaming. For release, to touch sunlight once more. But how could she allow their request when that meant dying by their hands?

 

_How many times has she died?_

_She feels it in her Soul, like memory of a swipe, watching a lost piece of herself disintegrate only to wake with a cold sweat upon her brow._

_She tells herself it is only a dream._

_But even when she looks upon their caskets, she stiffens at the thought of a phantom injury._

_There is pain, but no evident wound._

_There is memory yet no recollection._

 

_She loses a piece of herself each time another human child dies by her hand._

_She has learned to accept it._  

_She has learned to swallow down her agony, her sense of self._

 

She deemed their sacrifice just for the good of her people. For _her_. Had she not played at their game, everyone would have fallen.

_Would a struggling kingdom survive without its populous? Could a monarch rule with an empty title? With none to govern?_

_~~She has so many thoughts, too many thoughts.~~ _

Toriel knew of Humans. Toriel knows their tactics no matter how painfully close her actions seem to mirror theirs.

_~~To know thy enemy is to become them, after all.~~ _

 

She ignores the change in her soul, the trickle of red seeping and weaving into the cracks she creates with each kill, each Human her magic consumes.

 

_Her soul aches more and more each day, and even the Queen has discovered healing magic does nothing._

_She shouldn’t be alive._

_Her Soul should have shattered long ago when her children fell into her arms fragile, and already dusting._

_Could they forgive her now, after all she has done?_

_Could she look in their eyes and promise everything she did was for the better of all monsters?_

_And an act of revenge for their cause?_

_Would they understand if they saw her now?_

 

Who would rule without her? Who would command, or lead? _Asgore?_ That spineless twit of a scientist? A celebrity?

No, if Toriel could choose, she would pick Alphys. A strong, dependable monster, capable of handling themself and others. The Captain-come-successor. And she would make certain to groom her for the position.

 

_She’s the only one who hasn’t abandoned her--_

_The only one left who cares--_

 

Whether Toriel likes it or not, the time has arrived. Too soon, with one Soul required for their escape, Toriel has little opportunity to swallow down the guilt threatening to rear its ugly head. Too little time to register the death count, the many promises broken by this new Human child. 

Too little time to repent, and consider peace.

She has so much to do.

 

She may not last to see through their survival, but she will see to her people’s prosperity all the same.

If it costs her her life, then may the stars grant her mercy.

If any is left in the world for her.

\--

She takes a teacup so delicately in her paws and crushes the cracked surface. The ceramic shatters under her grasp. Two horns peek out amidst the shards. They press painfully into her palm, and her only recognition of the injury is a soft grunt.

She tosses the remains into the garbage, where it belongs. 

 

She can’t help but notice the subtle scent of flowers as she unlocks the stairway to the basement.

A feeling she can’t express pries its way to the surface of her stony face.

She sheds one tear as she descends to meet her fate.


End file.
